


Downtime

by NachoDiablo



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Facials, Fluff Bingo Quarter 2, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Oblivious Sam Wilson, Oral Sex, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 07:54:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18464698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NachoDiablo/pseuds/NachoDiablo
Summary: Steve and Sam take a breather in between missions.Set sometime after TWS.





	Downtime

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [Fluff Bingo](https://fluffbingo.dreamwidth.org/) on Dreamwidth. These two losers deserve some time off to be cute and sappy together, right?
> 
> My squares were Winter, Vacation, Eyes, Naked, and Words of Affirmation. Each scene is one square.

“It’s cold.”

Sam looked up from his coffee at Steve’s comment. Steve’s hands were wrapped around his latte, some sort of caramel hazelnut concoction. He peered at Sam intently through those long lashes of his, as though he’d said something profound.

“You’re only noticing this now?” Sam took a sip of his own drink, a Columbian pour over, black. _He_ wasn’t a supersoldier; he couldn’t doctor his caffeine with a half pound of sugar any more.

He gestured towards the large plate window of the coffee shop. “We’re in New Hampshire. It’s February. And it’s snowing. So yeah, man, it’s cold.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “You know what I mean. It’s _been_ cold, for a while now.”

Sam hesitated. He wasn’t exactly sure where Steve was going with this. Were they still talking about the weather, or was this some metaphorical shit about the trail for Barnes going cold yet again, or the coldness in Steve’s heart as he missed Barnes, or…

Sam pushed aside thoughts about what Steve’s heart may or may not be feeling. It wasn’t any of his business. He’d thought, when they’d first met and flirted and dragged each other, that Steve might have been interested in him.

But then everything had gone to hell, and and then once the smoke had cleared, Sam had joined up on the search for Barnes without a second thought.

He’d told Steve that he understood, that he’d have done the same for Riley, but it was more than that. It was knowing that Steve would have done the same for Sam, without hesitation. And at an even more basic level, it was the right thing to do. Whatever Barnes was now, he hadn’t become that by choice. He deserved a chance to know himself again.

Sam looked at Steve, closer this time. Steve didn’t look upset or pining. On the contrary, he had that hint of a shit-eating grin that Sam knew was the precursor for wheedling.

“We need a break,” Steve said. “Let’s go somewhere. Just the two of us.”

“Where’ve you been these past months?” Sam laughed. “It’s _always_ just the two of us.”

It wasn’t entirely true. They took breaks in between Barnes-tracking missions. Sam continued his work at the VA, saw his friends. Steve did his own thing as well, though Sam didn’t pry into his whereabouts when they were separated. They both dabbled in Avenging every so often.

But they were never that far apart, either. They hung out on the regular, crashed at each other’s apartments, texted memes back and forth. It was easy, comfortable. Not that they didn’t rile each other up now and again, of course, but a dash of shit talk was healthy in any relationship.

“I just…” Steve looked back down at his drink, and blushed. “I wanna take you somewhere nice. Somewhere we can relax.” His eyes flickered up to meet Sam’s, unblinking. “Somewhere warm.”

Sam felt his own cheeks heating up, though he didn’t drop his gaze from Steve’s. He kept trying to tell himself not to get his hopes up, but it was damn hard, with those baby blues looking at him like he was something special.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Alright. Let’s do it.”

The sunny grin on Steve’s face was warm enough to ward off any snowstorm.

 

\- - - - - - -

The temperature in Tamarindo was in the eighties, but Sam felt a shiver run down his spine as Steve strode over to his beach chair, shirtless and carrying a drink adorned with three different kinds of fruit.

“You looked thirsty,” Steve said as he handed over the drink. Sam narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses. Was Steve smirking, or was it Sam’s imagination?

“Thanks.” Sam took a sip of the drink and leaned over to set it down in the sand. When he straightened up, he noticed that Steve was still looking at him.

“Everything okay?”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it. He shook his head and settled back in his own chair. “Yeah, everything's good.” He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then looked back over at Sam. “You’re having a good time?”

“Yeah, I am,” Sam said with a smile, and it was the truth. He could take or leave the beach in general, but when said beach came equipped with a half naked Steve Rogers serving him a constant supply of snacks and cheerfully offering to rub sunscreen on his back, well. It’d be hard _not_ to have a good time.

It had been surprisingly easy to slip into a tourist routine. Pepper had hooked them up with a gorgeous house in walking distance to downtown and the beach. They’d spent their days poking around in the local shops and lounging by the water. Steve had taken a surfing lesson while Sam watched from the shore and laughed his ass off every time his dumb ass wiped out. They’d visited a turtle sanctuary one evening and silently nerded out together under the stars as the leathery little guys made their way up the sand to nest. They’d picked out a very nice silver and abalone bracelet for Natasha.

So far, the rough beginnings of a beard and ever-present Oakleys had kept Steve incognito. The town wasn’t huge, but the crowds were varied enough that neither of them stood out any more than the other numerous buff shirtless dudes.

Steve seemed pleased with Sam’s answer. “Good,” he said. “Me too.” He reached over, plucked a piece of pineapple from Sam’s drink, and stuffed it into his mouth. “You got any requests on plans for tonight?”

Sam shrugged. They’d hit up a few bars at night, gone out to the restaurants on Pepper’s rec list. Tamarindo was pretty low key. “Nah, man. I’m good with whatever you want to do.”

On this particular trip, Sam was always good with whatever Steve wanted to do, but it was only because he’d noticed that Steve was already painstakingly taking Sam’s preferences into account before he decided anything. It was nice. Cute.

And he was kinda irritated with himself for enjoying it.

“I was thinking…” Steve trailed off for a moment, then cleared his throat and continued. “I was thinking, maybe we could stay in tonight.”

Sam was grateful that his sunglasses hid the way his eyes widened in surprise. He tried not to read too much into Steve’s words, or the way he said them, his voice low and earnest.

“Works for me,” he said breezily. He reached down to pick up his drink and take a long sip.

“Good.” A small smile curled on the corner of Steve’s lips. “That’s… it’ll be good.”

 

\- - - - - - -

Sam stared at his plate as he ate his last forkful of salad. He pretended not to feel the weight of Steve’s gaze, the same way he’d been pretending all evening.

After a long day of doing fuck-all, Sam had gone back to the house and showered while Steve stopped by the market and picked up ingredients for dinner. Neither of them was any sort of great chef, but they’d both been bachelors long enough to know how to keep themselves fed. Grilled fish and salad were both simple enough, especially with such fresh ingredients.

They’d moved in tandem around the kitchen as they’d prepared the meal. It felt natural to have Steve toss him a dish towel without having to ask when he’d knocked over his water glass, or swat Steve’s hand away as he pilfered yet another cucumber slice from the salad fixings that Sam was chopping. It was no different than a hundred other evenings they’d spent just like this.

Except for the _looks._

Whenever Sam glanced over at Steve, those blue eyes were always focused somewhere on or around him. The weird part was that Steve never seemed embarrassed when Sam caught him creeping. He didn’t look away, or blush. Instead, he’d smile, warm and soft and completely unabashed.

Sam did not like how much he enjoyed that. He especially didn’t like the way his own traitorous lips automatically curled up to return that smile. He was acting a damn fool, and he knew it.

Or he would have known it last week. This week, amidst the sun and sand and smiles, Sam wasn’t so sure.

Steve’s eyes seemed transfixed on Sam’s lips as he swallowed down his last bite. Steve’s own plate was empty, his fork set on the edge, prongs down. Sam took a sip of water and wiped his mouth. Steve’s tongue sneaked out to moisten his lips, but his eyes never left Sam’s face.

“I…” Steve trailed off, then cleared his throat. “How was the fish?”

“You should know,” Sam shot back with a grin. “You ate it, too.”

Steve chuckled. “Guess so.” He glanced down at his bare plate with a pointed look.

“It was great,” Sam said. “You got the seasoning just right.” A slight lie, it could have used some paprika and a pinch more salt, but the way Steve’s face lit up in delight made up for it. “Not as good as my salad skills, though.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “If you call tossing bottled dressing over lettuce _skills,_ I guess.”

“Damn,” Sam laughed, “that’s how it is?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s how it is.”

The heat in Steve’s stare quieted Sam’s laughter. Sam quickly averted his eyes and stood up, grabbing his plate as he strode towards the kitchen.

“Sam.” Gentle finger gripped Sam’s wrist as he passed by Steve’s chair. Sam swallowed, but didn’t look down to met Steve’s eyes. He didn’t want to see something that wasn’t there.

“Sam,” Steve said again, softer this time. He reached out and grabbed Sam’s plate with his free hand, setting it down on the table with a soft clink.

Sam closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to face Steve.

Steve didn’t say anything. He just kept looking up at Sam, those bright blue of his eyes sparkling beneath long lashes. Slowly, he stood up. Sam didn’t realize he hadn’t released his breath until Steve was standing in front of him, dangerously close.

Steve didn’t blink as he let his eyes drift down Sam’s arm to where his fingers were still wrapped around Sam’s wrist. He released his grip and slowly adjusted his hand so their palms were pressed together, their fingers intertwined.

Steve looked back up to meet Sam’s gaze. Sam let out the breath he’d been holding, slow and steady. Then he gave Steve’s hand a tug to pull him in closer and capture his lips in a soft kiss.

Maybe he wasn’t such a fool, after all.

 

\- - - - - - -

“Fuck!” The back of Sam’s head slammed against the wall as his back arched. His hands shook as they raked through Steve’s hair, and he struggled to maintain his balance while Steve gave him one hell of a blowjob.

They’d made a half hearted attempt to stumble towards the bedroom while making out, but they’d only made it to the hallway before Steve had pushed Sam up against the wall and started to strip. Once their clothes were flung haphazardly around the hall, Steve had kissed his way down Sam’s body, dropped to his knees, and wrapped those perfect pink lips around Sam’s dick as though he was a starving man.

“Ugh,” Sam moaned as Steve swirled his tongue around the head. “Damn, baby, that feels incredible.”

Steve hummed around Sam’s dick, looked up at him, and winked. Actually winked, the little shit. He worked his tongue along the underside of the head, while one hand jerked the shaft. His other hand caressed Sam’s hip, then moved to his ass for a firm grip.

Sam’s fingers tightened in Steve’s hair, but it wasn’t for guidance. Steve was doing just fine on his own. This was something Sam had imagined more than he’d care to admit to himself during his jack off sessions, and the real life version was unparalleled. Steve’s technique wasn’t anything earth shattering, but he was real good at reading Sam’s cues and figuring out exactly what made him weak.

Steve’s hand left Sam’s ass abruptly. Sam was about to complain, but he saw that Steve had reached down to work his own leaking dick. Steve whined as he jerked himself off faster in time with his frantic movements on Sam’s dick. It only took a handful of strokes before Steve was coming all over his hand, gasping around Sam as he struggled to keep his rhythm.

Watching Steve’s come drip down his fingers onto the expensive tile below while Steve came down from his high was more than enough to push Sam over the edge.

“Steve-- Baby, m’gonna--”

Sam tugged at Steve’s hair impatiently. Steve pulled his mouth off Sam’s dick, but kept his hand moving.

“C’mon,” Steve rasped. “Come for me. Mark me up.”

Sam bit back a shout as he shot ropes of come across Steve’s lips and chin. Steve was careful to slow down once Sam finished pulsing in his hand. He grinned as he grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and wiped his face.

“Nasty,” Sam muttered shakily. He wanted to let his legs give out so he could slide down the wall and collapse on the floor, but he also didn’t want to sit in a pile of Steve’s jizz on the cold tile.

“It’s my shirt,” Steve said with a snicker. “But if you wanna lick it off next time--”

Sam didn’t let him finish. He scooted to the left and sat on his crumpled sweatpants, then pulled Steve in for a kiss, sucking the lingering salty musk off Steve’s lips. Steve returned the kiss eagerly, then pulled back with a sigh.

“That was pretty great,” Steve said. Sam wanted to drag him, but the goofy grin on Steve’s face made his heart melt a little bit.

“Yeah,” he agreed. "Would have liked to return the favor, though.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t a favor. You seen your dick lately? It’s a work of art.”

“Wow, man. Tone down the romance,” Sam snickered.

“It’s not romance,” Steve insisted. “It’s facts. It’s _science.”_

“Yeah?” Sam grinned. “Maybe we should go for round two then, let me get a better look at _your_ dick. Get up close and personal. You know, for science.”

Without warning, Steve’s lips were on him once more, pressing urgently against his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone. Sam wanted to insist they head to the warm, soft California King bed, but Steve’s fingers were running along his back, and his erection was pressing against Sam own rapidly rising dick, and--

Fuck it. They’d make it to the bedroom eventually.

 

\- - - - - - -

Sam lie on his back, the silk sheets of the bed cool against his skin. Steve was draped over his side with his head nestled against his shoulder. One of Steve’s hands ran lazily up and down the expanse of Sam’s chest and abs. Sam closed his eyes and tilted his head to press a kiss to Steve’s temple as Steve snuggled closer against him.

“Took you long enough,” Steve muttered.

“Huh?” Sam frowned. He could feel Steve smile against the crook of his neck.

“You falling asleep on me already? I thought _I_ was the old man in this relationship.”

“I’m not-- what?” Sam’s eyes flew open. He looked down at Steve with wide eyes and a pounding heart. “What’d you say?”

“You heard me.” Steve looked calm. Sam wondered if Steve could hear his heart attempting to leap out of his chest.

“I… Yeah,” Sam croaked. “I heard, but I… I dunno what you want to… Relationship?”

“Only if _you_ want.” Steve looked down as his fingertips traced intricate patterns across Sam’s chest. “I like you, Sam. A lot.” His eyes darted back up to meet Sam’s. “I love you. Have for a while now.”

Sam did not say _what the fuck,_ but he did think it. During their trip so far, he’d begun to put the pieces together enough to figure out that Steve was interested in him, but _love?_ That was a whole ‘nother level.

Or was it?

Steve was looking at him curiously. “Did you really not know? I know I’m better at picking up cues than laying them down, but I thought I was being obvious.”

“But what about…” Sam trailed off before he could ask about Barnes. He realised the answer before he’d even finished crafting the question.

He’d been looking at things all wrong. He’d been so focused on trying to see how Steve’s attitude towards Barnes had changed since they’d figured out he was alive, but that was irrelevant. It didn’t matter what Steve’s relationship with Barnes had been in the past, or what it was now, or what it might become.

Steve’s attitude towards _Sam_ hadn’t wavered since the day they met. He’d always been attentive, supportive. He’d always trusted Sam to have his back, and he’d always proven himself worthy of that trust. He knew all of Sam’s favorite restaurants and least favorite songs, his regrets about the past and his hopes for the future. He knew _Sam,_ and he allowed Sam to know him right back.

Their friendship was solid, a strong foundation on which to build something different if they chose. And maybe they’d already been building it all along. It sure as hell felt sturdy enough for Sam to take the leap.

He tightened his arm around Steve’s shoulders and pressed another kiss to his forehead. “You’re too smooth for your own good, Rogers.”

Steve laughed at the heavy sarcasm laced through Sam’s words. “Fuck off, you love it.”

“I do.” Sam rolled onto his side so they could face each other. He wrapped one arm around Steve’s waist and kissed the tip of his nose like the lovesick loser he was. “I love _you.”_

“I know,” Steve said with a smile. “Glad you finally caught up.”

“I always do,” Sam grinned. “Eventually.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/nachodiablo1) and [Tumblr](https://samstevebuckyhq.tumblr.com/) flailing over all things #TeamCap related.
> 
> I also mod a Sam Wilson Appreciation Discord (18+), [here’s](https://discord.gg/H5SeVkJ) an invite link if you’d like to join!


End file.
